


On Wings of Trust, We Fly

by Chiherah



Category: RWBY
Genre: Anti-Faunus Racism (RWBY), Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Mutilation, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, violence towards faunus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24480526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiherah/pseuds/Chiherah
Summary: Clover noticed that Qrow never turned his back on anyone. Literally. Well, now he knows why.((All triggers are for talks about retelling of past trauma.))
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 20
Kudos: 92





	On Wings of Trust, We Fly

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! My very first fic! Like, ever! Okay I had one before but I hated it and I deleted it, but eh. 
> 
> I have another super-long fic in the works, but I had this idea come to me in a dream and had to get it out. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also major kudos to TesseractTown for being my beta-reader!!

“Behind you!” Qrow calls to him as he rushes past in a flurry of feathers. 

Clover turns and sees the incoming stampede of megoliaths. 

Of course, the easy missions could never stay easy. That’s how these things went, after all. But if they were lucky, and he always was, the two huntsmen together would clear out the waves of grimm from Mantle’s wall breach quickly and still have time to go to dinner. 

And if nothing else, the chance to take Qrow out on a real date -- finally, if he may add -- was enough to boost Clover’s confidence and drive to hurry up and finish the job.

With a flick of his pin, he casts Kingfisher’s line out, hooking onto one of the megoliaths’ tusks. He runs and slides underneath the giant grimm, causing the creature’s head to pivot awkwardly toward the ground as it stumbles and falls. 

He doesn’t even have to make the callout as Qrow is already descending from above, Harbinger extended into its scythe form, slashing down at its underside to turn it to dust. 

Clover smirks and turns away from his partner, hooking one of the incoming sabyrs and tossing it into another, allowing Qrow a quick two-for-one strike with his sword. Then there’s a screeching sound coming from above. Both huntsmen look up as a teryx flies overhead, beginning its descent towards several terrified citizens. 

Clover turns to his partner. “Can you hold them here? I can take this one.” Qrow nods to him and he takes off towards the creature, using Kingfisher’s line to propel him upwards towards the grimm. 

He gets his hook around the teryx’s leg and retracts the line, pulling him in close. He uses his momentum to fling himself onto the creature’s back, and sends out the line once again, expertly altering the hook’s trajectory to loop it around the grimm’s neck. The hook flies back to him, and he catches the end of the line in his right hand and flicks the switch to retract the line in his left. He pulls it taunt, causing the creature to angle itself upwards and ascend back into the sky. 

With the grimm at a safe distance from the citizens, Clover slams the hook into the creature’s back and jumps, swinging down and around the grimm’s neck once more until he pulls the line taunt and, with a little help from gravity, severs its neck, effectively dusting it. 

With the grimm destroyed and his line free, Clover reels Kingfisher back in before sending it out once more down towards a lamp post, swinging back towards the border wall and safely landing on the ground. 

He runs back over into the next wave of grimm, his eyes scanning for his combat partner as he uses Kingfisher as a polearm to slash into more sabyrs. Clover clears out this batch of grimm, listening to the sounds of more megoliaths stomping around the corner. He catches a glance of another pack of sabyrs incoming past the wall breach, but still doesn’t see Qrow anywhere. 

Clover pulls his hand to his earpiece and is about to call for him on the comms when he suddenly hears a loud, trumpeting noise followed by a  _ smack _ and then a squawk. He sees a small, dark shape get flung into the air, flying past his field of vision, transforming into a larger shape before sailing into the alleyway on the other side. There’s another crashing sound and Clover doesn’t waste any time running over to where his partner landed. 

He rounds the corner into the alleyway and skids to a stop next to Qrow, who is using Harbinger to help him stand up. Clover is instantly at his side, helping him back to his feet. 

“Qrow, are you alright?” He looks over Qrow as he dusts the debris from the other huntsman’s sleeves. He sees the tell tale signs of Qrow’s aura on the verge of shattering. He makes a move to brush off more of the debris from his cape before Qrow is stepping back, straightening out and hefting Harbinger over his shoulder, turning to face him with a smirk.

“I’m fine. Just a bit of bad luck. I happened to fly right into the path of a stampeding alpha megoliath.” Qrow smiles and tilts his head back towards the thoroughfare. “Which, we probably want to get back to and take care of that.” 

Clover nods, but his face is pensive, checking his scroll. “Your aura is pretty damaged. Play it safe, retreat if needed, and  _ don’t _ do anything stupid so we can get out of here soon.” 

“Hey, you’re talking to one of the best huntsmen of our generation. I’ll be fine!” 

_ One of the best huntsmen of all time, _ Clover thinks to himself.

“Besides, I’ve got you, don’t I?” Qrow winks at him before taking off back into the fight. 

Clover smiles and follows suit. “You know I will always have your back, Qrow!”

The fight resumes, and the two of them together make quick work of the megoliath that attacked Qrow before it got too much farther into the city. The beast wails in defeat before falling to the side, crashing into one of the buildings before turning to dust. 

Clover turns to Qrow with a smile. “Nice work. I think we can wrap this up quick--”

“LOOK OUT!” Qrow is screaming at him.

Clover looks up in time to see a piece of the building falling towards him before he is tackled to the side, the piece of debris crashing into the ground where he once stood. He hits the ground roughly and is very aware of the weight on top of him. 

Clover looks up as Qrow lifts himself slightly, hovering over him. He sees Qrow’s aura shatter completely, the deep crimson fizzling out. 

Qrow chuckles above him, smirking down at him with playful eyes. “Lucky save, huh?”

Clover frowns. “Qrow, I literally just asked you to not do anything stupid. I would have been fine, my aura is mostly full. Now yours is broken.” 

Qrow just scoffs. “Yeah, well then I wouldn’t have had an excuse to do this, now would I?” Qrow leans down and presses his lips quickly to Clover’s before pulling away. 

Clover stares up at his partner, enamored by his cheeky smile and the faint hint of a blush starting to form across his cheeks. “You know, you don’t need an excuse or need to pull off a stupid stunt to do that.” Clover finds his arms wrapping around Qrow’s lower waist, pulling him close. 

Qrow lets out a soft gasp before going still, staring down at Clover with those beautiful crimson eyes that are wide and filled with so many unspoken emotions. Clover wants to learn about all of them, everything he keeps bottled up inside, never telling anyone, never letting it out.

He’s too lost in those eyes to see the incoming danger until there’s a black blur speeding towards them. Qrow screams, and he feels the aura across his arms absorb a blow. 

Clover pulls Qrow to the side, grabbing Kingfisher and uses the harpoon end to pierce the sabyr that jumped them in the throat before turning his weapon around and slashing the grimm, dusting it. He collapses Kingfisher to his belt once again and turns back to Qrow, who is rising to his feet, worriedly scanning over him. 

Clover sees Qrow wince in pain as he pulls Harbinger from its place on his back and holds it. “We’re not done here yet, it seems,” Qrow grinds out.

Clover frowns. “The fight isn’t, but you are. You’re injured and your aura is shattered. I’m pulling you out of the fight.”

“What? No, I’m fine, and we’re almost done.”

Clover puts his hands on his earpiece and comms to his team. “This is Clover. Performing an emergency medical extraction and requesting backup at the eastern Mantle breach. Over.”

“Clover, I’m fine! I can keep going.” Qrow open fires on a pack of sabrys with his shotgun. “It was just a scratch and there’s only a pack left.”

“You’re  _ bleeding _ , Qrow. I’m not taking any chances.” 

“I’m not turning my back on this fight!”

“Well, I’m not turning my back on you,” Clover grabs Qrow’s free hand and tugs him close. “Let’s go. Please, Qrow. I told you I had your back and I already failed at that. I’m not making that mistake again. So, I’m making the call. We’re leaving. Backup is already on its way.”

Qrow glares at him. 

“Just... think of it as an excuse to head out to dinner early, then.” Clover smiles at his partner, nudging his shoulder lightly. 

Qrow deflates at that. “Alright, alright.” He smiles back. “Let’s go then, Captain.” 

Clover turns and leads Qrow back to the LZ for extraction, not letting go of his hand. 

“We’re taking you to medical first to get that wound cleaned, though.”

He feels Qrow’s hand pull out of his. “No,” he hears Qrow say.

Clover turns and looks at his partner. “What do you mean, ‘no’? Qrow, you’re  _ injured _ .”

Qrow scowls. “I’m well aware, Clover, thank you. But no, I’m not going to medical. I’ll take care of it myself.”

Clover snorts. “Do you not trust Atlas medical professionals as much as you don’t trust the military?”

“I trust them  _ less _ than the military if you’re anything to go by.” Qrow stares forward as they continue their retreat to the LZ, the backup squadrons arriving to finish up the remainder of the grimm. “Regardless, I don’t really trust any medical personnel with me, rigorously trained or not.”

Clover hums. “You know  _ I _ am trained medical personnel, right?” 

Qrow stops and stares incredulously at Clover. 

Clover also stops and turns back to smile at Qrow. “Do you trust  _ me _ ?”

Several emotions cross Qrow’s face at once, shifting from shock to concern, then to guilt and confusion. “I do. Just…” Qrow lifts a hand to his shoulder. 

“Listen. Whatever it is you're worried about, I won’t care. What I do care about is your life, and your wellbeing, and making sure your injuries are properly treated so they don’t get infected.” Clover steps back towards Qrow and takes his hand again. “I promise you, Qrow, I just want to help and to make sure you’re okay. And then take you out to a nice dinner so we can have a relaxing night away from all this commotion for once. But,” he rubs his thumb over Qrow’s knuckles, looking him in those glossy red eyes he could endlessly lose himself to, “I know I won’t be able to relax tonight if I don’t know for sure that your injury was looked at properly. If you don’t trust medical, that’s fine, but at least let me clean it up? For my own peace of mind?”

Qrow fidgets as the dropship lands to pick them up. “What if… I come with you and clean it up myself with you there?” 

They load into the ship quickly, taking off back to Atlas. Clover still is holding Qrow’s hand, rubbing circles into the back of his palm. “Will you let me help if you need it?” 

“I won’t need it but… Only if absolutely necessary, yeah.” Qrow isn’t looking at him, but Clover can hear the fear in his voice. He doesn’t know what Qrow doesn’t want him to see, or know about, but he would at least be respectful of his boundaries. 

Clover sighs and leans forward to press a kiss into Qrow’s hair. “Alright, then. I suppose that’s enough of a compromise. At least until Huntsman Arc and his team get back from their mission at the launch site.”

Qrow chuckles and rolls his eyes. “You can call him Jaune, you know? No need to be so formal.” 

“Formalities come with the attainment of formal titles, Huntsman Branwen.” 

Qrow gently taps a fist to Clover’s shoulder. “Oh, shut it,  _ Captain Ebi _ .” 

“That’s  _ Special Operative Captain Ebi _ , thank you very much.” Clover puffs out his chest in mock arrogance. 

Qrow snorts and sputters into laughter, and Clover quickly follows, until Qrow hisses in pain. “You know, I could fly up there faster than these damn planes.”

“Doubt that, and that’s not good conservation of energy.” Clover leans back against the side of the transport, pulling Qrow close to him, settling his free hand on Qrow’s waist. 

“Tsk. Spoilsport.” Qrow leans into Clover, resting his head on Clover’s shoulder. 

Clover looks over Qrow’s shoulder and sees the amount of blood staining the tear marks on Qrow’s cape and winces. He can only imagine the wound he sustained from the sabyr’s claws. 

The plane docks at Atlas and Clover stands to open the door. “Alright, let’s go get you cleaned up for dinner, then.” 

Clover leads Qrow out of the plane, helping him off as much as possible without putting a strain on his back, and leading them back to Clover’s accommodations. 

When they arrive, Clover opens his door and ushers Qrow inside. “Head to the bathroom, I’ll grab the medkit.”

Clover heads to the supply room and grabs the medkit, meeting Qrow in the bathroom. He sets the kit on the countertop and opens it, pulling out all of the cleaning essentials, gauze, and wrap. He looks to Qrow, who already has removed everything but his undershirt. 

“Can I at least take a look to see if you’ll need it stitched up?” Clover asks, cautiously. 

Qrow turns towards him but keeps his head down. “I doubt I’ll need stitches. I’m just going to clean it off and wrap it up, and when my aura comes back it will heal and I’ll be  _ fine _ .” 

“Can you reach where it’s at?”

“I’ve got it, Cloves.” 

“I could just--”

“ _ Clover _ ,” Qrow gives him a leveled look that is just screaming at him to  _ leave him alone _ . Qrow sighs. “I promise, I’ve got this. And I told you I’d call for your help if I need it.” 

Clover looks at Qrow, then. Qrow, who all but admitted to Clover that he  _ trusts _ him, now asks for that trust in return. Clover steps back. “Alright. You’ve got this.” He smiles at his partner. “I’ll be right outside, okay?” 

Clover takes his leave, leaving the door slightly open if only to help him hear Qrow if he called for him, and heads into the kitchen. He starts making a cup of tea. He knows they will be heading to dinner soon, but he needs something right now to calm his nerves, and maybe Qrow’s too. The water in the kettle finishes boiling and he pours it into his cup, waiting for it to steep. 

Time seems to drag on, waiting to hear something from Qrow. He knows he shouldn’t push. If this is something that is personal for Qrow, it must be for a good reason that he doesn’t want him there, helping. He  _ has _ to respect that, as both a fellow huntsman and his romantic partner. Trust was an integral part of any relationship, and he wanted to show Qrow that he trusts him as much as he, himself, is trustworthy. 

Clover knew Qrow was a man of many secrets, and he was already let in on one of the biggest secrets he could think that Qrow carried with him: that he was magic, and could turn into a bird, if no thanks to Ozpin. He remembers first learning about Qrow’s shape-shifting abilities; he was in disbelief at first, but then amazed and awestruck when he saw Qrow change and fly around the battlefield. It was beautiful; Qrow was beautiful, in every way possible. 

Clover sips his tea as he thinks back to how each time he made a motion or intent to touch Qrow’s back, the other man would turn away or move out of arm’s reach. He thought back to every time he placed a hand on Qrow’s shoulder or lower back, he would flinch or go still. Gentle touches anywhere else seemed to be fine, but anywhere near his back and Qrow gave many non-verbal signs that it wasn’t okay with him.

Clover sighed and mentally berated himself for not catching on sooner. Qrow didn’t want his help specifically because of  _ where _ the injury occurred. He didn’t want Clover seeing or touching his back. Clover then wonders if something traumatizing happened and left him with scars, maybe both mentally  _ and _ physically. 

He sets his cup down and paces the kitchen. Nothing yet to come from Qrow. Should he check on him? No, Qrow said he would call if he needed him. Clover was sure Qrow had to have handled his own bandages at one point or another. Any huntsman in the field knew how to take care of a grimm wound. And Qrow  _ is _ the best of the best, after all. He would be fine. He would--

Suddenly, Clover hears a solid  _ thump _ against the floor of the bathroom, followed by soft sounds of strangled breathing and sobs. 

Clover quickly makes his way to the bathroom, stopping just short before the door, which was still partially ajar as he left it. “Qrow?”

“D-don’t!” Qrow’s panicked voice was shaky, slipping through between loud breaths.

“I’m not coming in. I just want to know if you’re alright.” 

There was no response, just more shaky breaths and a quiet sob or two.

“Qrow, please talk to me. I’m not going to encroach on your privacy, I promise. I just heard a sound like you fell and need to know if you’re okay.” 

Another shaky breath. “I… I can’t…” Another sob.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. Deep breaths, okay?” Clover has heard the tells of a panic attack too many times to  _ not _ know what this was. “You’re safe. You’re with me. No one can hurt you here, and you’re alright.”

“It’s too much.” Another choked sob. “I can’t… I can’t do it. It looks too much like… like…” Qrow trails off, his breathing quickening. 

Clover’s gut twists. He has to try to get his mind off whatever it is that’s triggering this reaction. “Don’t think about that right now, Qrow. Focus on me, okay? Focus on the sound of my voice. I’m right here. I won’t come in unless you ask me to, okay? But I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you.” 

He can hear Qrow’s breathing even out some, but he knows they aren’t out of the woods yet.

“You’re an amazing person, Qrow. You’re strong, and you’re talented. You’re brave in the face of the world’s worst nightmares and you always stare down danger with a cocky smile. You’ve come back ten times stronger from hardships that would have made the strongest person in Remnant break, and I admire that so much. You’re kind and selfless, and treat every one of those kids that walked into Atlas with you like they are one of your own, possibly even being a better person for them to look up to than their own guardians. You’re a great teacher and you never give up on anyone, not even yourself. And even if you have a hard time taking a compliment, you’re humble. You’re stoic in the face of opposition, and bluntly truthful even when the truth hurts. 

“And I love that about you. All of it. I love every single thing that makes you  _ Qrow _ . I know you don’t need me, but I want to be there for you if you want me. You don’t need me to take care of you, because you’re more than capable. But I want to take care of you, if you’ll let me, because you deserve to be treated well and taken care of, too, just as you do for others.”

There’s a small sniff from the other side. “Clover?”

“Yeah?”

“Can… can you come in?” Qrow asks quietly. 

Clover steels himself before pushing the door open slowly. He steps into the bathroom and sees Qrow sitting shirtless in the corner facing towards him, his hands around his knees. There’s a mess of bloody gauze and stains on the floor, and smears of blood on Qrow’s hands.

Qrow looks up at him, his eyes glossy with tears as he takes in another shaky breath. “I can’t do it. I thought I could. But I can’t. The blood… the scars… It hurts. I can’t do it.” Qrow squeezes his eyes shut and more tears fall.

Clover slowly moves inside, leaving the door open, lowering himself to sit in front of Qrow. “There’s no shame in admitting that you need help, you know. Even with something you really want to be able to handle yourself.” 

“That’s why I am.” Qrow looks at him intently. “Asking for help.”

Clover nods. “You’re sure?”

Qrow nods, his hands gripping his knees tighter. “I… trust you. But, please… please don’t… don’t ask questions. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Clover nods. He was right. There was something that happened to him that really traumatized him, and caused him to not want anyone to touch or look at his back. And yet, here he was, trusting him out of everyone to help him with the one thing that causes him great pain. Qrow could have asked for Ruby, or Yang, or even any of his unofficially adopted children at this point to help him. But he was asking Clover to help him. And Clover wouldn’t take this trust for granted. 

Qrow shifts. “Where… where do you want me to… sit? Stand?”

Clover stands up and first goes to wash his hands. “Anywhere you’re most comfortable. I’ll be quick with it, okay?” 

Qrow makes a noise of confirmation and Clover hears him shift again. “I’m just… gonna stay here for now.” 

“That’s okay. Don’t push yourself.” Clover dries his hands and grabs the supplies he’d need from the counter and turns around, but the sight he sees causes his breath to catch in his throat. 

Qrow has turned away from him, the drying blood of the wound a glaring contrast of dark red against his skin. But the crusted blood isn’t what causes him to stop, nor the wound itself. 

No, what causes Clover to freeze and stare are the two long, parallel, raised scars that run along his back from the top of his shoulder blades to the bottom of his rib cage. He frowns as he kneels down, inching closer to Qrow, his eyes mapping out the ridges of the scar tissue. They were old, he could tell, probably from when he was still growing, if the stretch marks on portions of the scar were anything to go by. 

He fully settles on the floor behind Qrow, taking a cotton round and the disinfectant, beginning to clean off some of the crusted blood from around the wound. His movements drag across one of the scars, and he can feel Qrow’s muscles tense, the raised edges shifting in time with his shoulders, moving almost on their own. Almost like they were…

“Wings.” Clover whispers.

Qrow tenses completely before him. There’s a small shake in his shoulders now. 

“You had wings.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath before Qrow growls out, “You said you wouldn’t ask any questions.”

Clover inwardly curses at himself. Of course it was a sore subject, and here he was bringing it up. “Granted, it wasn’t a question. But… I’m sorry. I’ll keep my thoughts to myself.” 

Clover continues tending to the wound in silence, cleaning it off, applying the gauze and wrapping it up. Luckily, Qrow was right, and it didn’t need stitches, and would heal just fine once his aura was back up. He finishes securing the bandages and stands up to clean up the rest of the bathroom. 

“You’re good to go, Qrow. It should heal fully when your aura comes back, but until then, just… take it easy. You deserve to rest.” Clover finishes packing up the rest of the med kit as Qrow stands and turns to face him again. 

Qrow’s arms are wrapped tightly around himself, and he can’t seem to meet Clover’s eyes, but he steps towards Clover, not saying a word.

Clover turns to face Qrow fully and holds out one of his hands. “Hey. You’re alright. I won’t say a word. I swear to you as a huntsman, and a partner.”

Qrow just sighs and takes Clover's hand, letting Clover pull him closer. Clover cautiously rests his other hand on the side of Qrow’s arm and leans forward to press their foreheads together. 

“I can just pretend I didn’t even see anything, if that makes you feel better.” Clover rubs circles into Qrow’s arm with his thumb; his other hand squeezing Qrow’s. 

“You were right.”

Clover pauses a moment, tilting his head in question. 

“I had wings.”

They stand there in silence for what feels like hours. Clover, not knowing what to say that wouldn’t make things worse, just let Qrow rest against him, continuing to gently caress Qrow’s skin. 

“Thank you,” Clover finally says.

Qrow looks up at him. “For what?”

“For trusting me. I know that’s something that means a great deal to you, and seems to hurt you so much. So, thank you. For trusting me when you’re the most vulnerable. And I want to do whatever it is I can to make that pain lessen. So, if it’s never mentioning this again, I can do that. If you ever  _ do _ want to talk about it, I’m here to listen, too. Whatever makes you the most comfortable. Okay, Qrow?”

Qrow blinks at him a few times, possibly keeping back any more tears. “Well… if… if this,” he motions between them with his free hand, “is going to work at all, I guess there shouldn’t be any secrets, huh? So, you don’t have to completely forget about it. But...”

“But you don’t want to talk about it.” Clover finishes for him. 

Qrow sighs, dropping his head onto Clover’s shoulder. “Can… can we sit?” 

Clover smiles and nods, taking Qrow’s hand fully in his and heads towards the living room. “How about you get comfortable and I’ll make you some tea?” 

Qrow nods and heads for the couch, sitting sideways against the arm rest so he doesn’t lean against his wound. 

Clover heads into the kitchen and begins to make a cup of tea for Qrow. Wings. He had wings. ‘Had’ being the operative keyword, though. They were gone, now. Cut off. Taken away. If Qrow’s reaction was anything to go off of, their removal was not of his consent. Clover feels anger flood through him. Someone hurt him at such a young age and it was still affecting the man to this day.

The kettle whistles and Clover is pulled from his thoughts. He pours the water into Qrow’s mug and lets it steep a moment before taking it over to the living room. He has so many questions for his partner, but he knew it wasn’t his place to pry unless Qrow wanted to tell him. He had to trust that when Qrow was ready, he would tell him the full story. But until then, he could only support him by being there to reassure him. 

Qrow takes the cup from Clover’s hands and lifts his legs, allowing Clover to sit down, before placing his legs across Clover’s lap. 

Clover settles into the couch, running his hands across the other’s legs in what he hopes is a calming gesture, taking all of Qrow in. He still looks so shaken. Qrow is strong and brave, yet can be reduced to trepidation by such an awful memory. He wants to make sure that no enemy will ever be able to use that against Qrow. And if anyone  _ does _ try anything, he hopes that he’s there to beat them until they can’t hurt him anymore. 

Qrow takes a sip of the tea and takes a deep breath. “You ever wonder why you don’t see any bird faunus with wings?” 

Clover blinks. No, he never thought about it, if he was honest. But now that he is, he does realize that he doesn’t even know of  _ any _ winged faunus. 

“It’s because we were deemed as  _ too dangerous _ .” Qrow glares into his tea cup.

_ We _ . Qrow called himself a faunus. Clover knows at one point he asked if being able to transform into a crow made him feel like a faunus. ‘Being a faunus is more than being an animal’ he had said. Now he understands what he really meant. 

“If you had wings, you were hunted,” Qrow continued. “Wings gave you the greatest advantage in both combat and life in general: flight. If you could fly, you could see. If you could fly, you were your allies’ greatest strength and your enemy’s worst fear.”

Clover nods. He knew a lot of this to be true, given that Qrow’s ability to take to the skies and give them a literal bird’s eye view of the battlefield was significantly more helpful than looking through a drone camera.

“When those with wings started being hunted down, most parents would take it upon themselves to cut their children’s wings off at birth to save them the trouble in the future of being brutally murdered.” Qrow looks up. “Well, you know I didn’t quite have that luxury.”

Clover stays quiet, still. He knows that Qrow’s childhood was far from glamorous. Qrow had already told him before about how he grew up in the Branwen tribe with Raven, the two of them fending for themselves beforehand. He hadn’t told him what led him to the tribe in the first place, though.

“When we were born, Raven came first. Perfect and wingless. Then I showed up, cursed with wings. Of course I would be the unlucky one to have the one faunus trait in the world that was hated the most.” Qrow grits his teeth. 

Clover squeezes Qrow’s leg in comfort, hoping his thought of  _ don’t blame your semblance _ gets across to him. 

“Our parents decided to not remove my wings. Because of course they didn’t. I don’t remember much of them, but I…” Qrow’s hands shake. “I hate them for it to this day. They basically sentenced me to a life of running from hunters that wanted to cut me down for money. I was nothing but game to those monsters.

“My memory as a kid is spotty. And really, I don’t want to remember. Most of it was running. Running and hiding. Raven stayed with me through the thick and thin of it all. She protected me and I did my best to keep her safe, too. We were thick as thieves, back then.” Qrow chuckles. 

“Did you find the tribe as protection, then?” Clover asks softly. 

“No, the tribe found us.”

Clover frowns. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed…”

“I told you already that the tribe wanted to send us to Beacon academy to kill huntsmen, right?”

Clover nods. Qrow had told him he and his sister were only sent there for that reason, but after meeting their teammates and learning about Salem, Qrow’s loyalties changed, and he became a full-fledged huntsman, a sworn protector of the people. That part of that story made him admire Qrow so much more than he already did.

“Well we were the ones selected for that task not just because of our innate skills and secret faunus traits, but because of  _ how _ they found us.”

Qrow takes a shaky breath before continuing. “I was stupid and careless one time after Rae and I got into a fight. I ran off to cool down and I was singled out, captured by a group of five hunters. I fought hard. I had the advantage, after all. But they had hunted before. They were able to shoot me out of the sky and surround me as I was injured. Then they held me down and… and…”

Clover reaches out and squeezes Qrow’s arm.

“They cut them off. It hurt... It hurt _so much_ and I was tired and I couldn’t fight back anymore. I remember passing out then and waking up to a bloody and bruised Raven hovering over me. 

“She tells me that her semblance activated at that moment, and she felt that I was hurt. She made a portal to my location and found me lying there, next to the hunters that were holding my severed wings.

“She killed them. I had done a number on them before they overpowered me, but she killed all of them. She got herself mangled up pretty badly in the fight but she came out on top. And when one of the scouts from the Branwen tribe came across us and the five dead hunters, they picked us up, and we were brought into and raised by the tribe.”

Clover’s eyes widen at all of the new information about Qrow’s past. He doubts that anyone else knows this side of the story, and he still can’t believe that Qrow trusts him enough to disclose all of this to him. He doesn’t know what he can do or say to show that he is thankful for Qrow’s trust and honesty. 

They sit in silence for a moment, Qrow finishing up the remainder of his tea before he sets the cup on the coffee table. “So… to this day I can’t even look at my back. I don’t like people touching there or anyone seeing the scars.”

“That’s a completely valid feeling, given everything that happened.” Clover pulls Qrow’s hands in his. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be protective about that. Even with the people you care the most about. It’s personal, and it should be up to you who has the right to be let into your personal business. I hope it never felt like I was forcing you to disclose that information.”

Qrow shakes his head. “No, like I said I don’t want to keep secrets from you. It’s not right. Especially because I…” He freezes, eyes wide, snapping his mouth shut quickly. 

Clover watches as a faint flush forms across Qrow’s cheeks. He smiles, letting whatever Qrow was about to say die on his tongue. “You're entitled to your secrets as long as keeping them doesn’t put anyone else in jeopardy.” 

“Yeah, I know. But, I wanted you to know. I mean,” Qrow looks up at Clover, a small smile forming on his lips, “you were going to see them sooner or later. The scars.”

Clover feels his face warm slightly at the implications of Qrow’s words. His heart flutters, knowing that Qrow trusts him enough to tell him. That he wanted to eventually show him. There’s a warmth that settles in his soul, knowing that Qrow wants this relationship to work, and to be healthy, just as much as he does.

He looks down at their joined hands. “They’re beautiful, you know?” He feels Qrow tense slightly, “I mean, granted, what happened for you to have to live with them is awful, don’t get me wrong. But those scars are a part of you, a part of your past that makes you who you are today. Therefore that makes them beautiful.” He looks back up at Qrow, giving his hands a squeeze. “Just like you.” 

Qrow stares back at him, his mouth open slightly. Clover thinks he may have gone too far when Qrow starts chuckling. 

“You cheesy bastard. That was awful!” Qrow laughs. 

Clover smiles. He loves hearing Qrow laugh, and he's glad he can be the reason for it, even if it resorts to him being called names. He shifts on the couch and lets go of one of Qrow's hands, holding his arm out in invitation. 

Qrow scoots close to him, turning to rest his side against Clover’s chest so his back is still free. Clover drapes his arm carefully around Qrow’s shoulders, being mindful of his wound and overall comfort. 

“Is this alright?” Clover asks, still holding onto one of Qrow’s hands, lacing their fingers together. 

Qrow nods into Clover’s shoulder. “Yeah. It’s perfect.”

Perfect. Clover can agree with that. Right now, getting to hold Qrow, getting to see Qrow’s trust in him displayed, and getting to relax together after a mission was indeed perfect. It was a shame this moment just had to follow after unfortunate circumstances.

He presses a kiss into Qrow’s hair and gently runs his hand up and down Qrow’s arm. He could stay like this for hours, dinner plans be damned. As long as Qrow was content and relaxed, he didn't care about anything else. He just wanted his partner to feel safe and happy. 

Safe. With their current jobs, though, safety was always something they were putting on the line. Being a huntsman meant putting your own life on the line to protect those that couldn't protect themselves. They knew this going into the field. That’s why Clover joined the military, got medical training, and put everything he had into becoming the best huntsman he could be. He wanted to  _ help _ people and keep them safe. 

He looks down at Qrow's bandages. He failed at that today. He let his guard down and Qrow got hurt. All the luck in the world and he still couldn't protect the ones he cared about the most. After all, his semblance was selfish. He was always the lucky one, but the people around him were the most at risk. That’s why he fought tooth and nail every day to become someone that could protect others. He was sure Qrow felt and did the same. 

Even with a life riddled with misfortune and hardships weighing down on injured shoulders, Qrow came out on top and stronger than ever. He could see it in the way the man walked, the way he held his sword, and even in the way he looked at his nieces and their friends. Qrow didn't let his past mistakes hold him back. He learned from them and conquered them. It was truly admirable to see that even with clipped wings, Qrow still soared.

“What is it like?” Clover asked, his voice low. “Being able to fly?”

Qrow sighs. “It's amazing. There's really nothing like it. Nothing will compare to the feeling of being in the sky, high above the world, only the wind in your hair. Or, feathers in my case, I suppose.” He chuckles. “It's… freeing.”

Clover closes his eyes and imagines being able to fly alongside Qrow with nothing but clouds and sky around them. He grins. “I bet your sister was jealous.”

Qrow snorts. “She was for a while, yeah.”

“Oh? Only a while?”

“I used to carry her. So she could at least get a taste of it. But we couldn't do that often, and only at night, otherwise, we'd be seen.”

Clover nods. It was heartbreaking, to say the least, to learn that winged faunus were hunted for their wings; that they were killed off just for having the ability to fly and be free. It was sickening to think they were considered less than regular birds, stripping them of their humanity altogether. He knew of the prejudices towards faunus as a whole, but to hear and see first hand the results of those violent actions against them for just  _ existing  _ angered him beyond belief.

Qrow continued. “When we enrolled in Beacon and met Ozpin and got recruited to help with the Salem problem, we disclosed to Oz that we were faunus born. I felt I could trust Oz with my secret, so I told him that story, too. It was then he used his magic to give us the ability to shape-shift into birds.”

“Us? Your sister, too?”

“Oh yeah. For one, Oz thought her innate faunus eyes would be doubly useful if she could fly, too. And two, she threw an  _ absolute hissy fit _ in Oz's office about the fairness of her once again being without wings. Which was totally understandable and a valid point.” Qrow laughs. “But it was sure funny as hell to watch her blow up on our headmaster about something he already planned to do.”

Clover chuckles. “I can imagine.” He gives Qrow’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I'm glad at least you are able to fly again.”

“The only good thing to come out of Oz, if I'm honest.”

Clover presses another kiss into Qrow's hair. “I can't imagine being able to and then having that taken away. I'm… I'm so sorry, Qrow. But I'm glad you told me. I don't want that for anyone else. Faunus deserve to be treated just like humans. I've seen a lot of it first hand, between Marrow being an Ace Op and the tension between Atlas and Mantle alone…”

Clover lets out a shaky breath, resting his head against Qrow's. “The injustices are atrocious, and I want to help stop it. If I can use my position to help give faunus a fighting chance and stop these crimes against them, I want to. I want to do everything I can so that stories like yours don't have to be told ever again.”

Clover feels his eyes water as Qrow shifts away from him, looking up at him.

“And,” Clover untangles his fingers from Qrow’s, lifting his hand to Qrow’s cheek, “I would love your help in that, if you’re willing to give it. Obviously this is  _ your _ fight, not mine, but I want to use my position for good. Just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it. But I don’t want to do anything without you.”

Qrow smiles and leans into Clover’s hand. “I’ll gladly help. And thank you, for wanting to fight for the right things.” He lifts his own hand, placing it over Clover’s. “As for what to do, you may need to start by looking at your own policies and structures. You already said you see the tensions between Atlas and Mantle. Atlas and the military are the leading offenders of faunus attacks and dismissals of rights.”

Clover looks down. “I know, I know. All the Ace Ops know that. We see first hand how they treat Marrow.”

“Having a faunus in the military means nothing. I know you want to do good, but you’re part of a system that perpetuates these ideologies. If you want true reform, you have to start at the core. James never understood that. He keeps saying he’s trying, that he wants to protect Mantle, but he’s so caught up in his own personal fears that he just let the hate breed under his nose as he turned a blind eye. I know he’s not a bad man, none of you are bad, but the military at its core isn’t helping, it’s hurting.”

“The General is focused on trying to protect the world from Salem.”

“And that’s fine.” Qrow pulls Clover’s hand from his face and shifts away, turning to look at Clover. “Salem is the biggest threat right now. And one we need to worry about. We need a plan to protect  _ everyone _ from her. But that doesn’t mean we can’t worry about multiple problems at once. And Salem’s goal is to divide us. The sheer fact that there’s tension between Mantle and Atlas because of faunus issues and just general human rights issues plays  _ right _ into her hands. We can’t let her win, and unifying everyone by fixing those issues will ultimately allow us to  _ all _ fight against her and win. She can’t take all of us.”

Clover can only stare at Qrow. All his life, he had made it a goal to help people, but here he was in a profession that played right into doing the opposite of what he wanted for his home, and for the world. Qrow had a point, and James was too focused on his own fear, thinking his strategies would help when the big picture was that they were doing more harm than good. 

“What we need to do,” Qrow looks at Clover sternly, “is talk with Jimmy and snap him out of his little bubble before things get worse. Atlas wasn’t built in a day, but it sure as hell can fall in one if we’re not careful.”

“You’re right. We need to talk with him. And the kids. You all have seen Salem and her tactics first hand. We need to work together to come up with a plan.” 

“We’ve seen Mantle first hand, too. Maybe Jimbo needs to take a field trip down there himself for a day and see how bad they’re really hurting because of his embargo and the Amity Communications Tower project.” 

Clover nods. “That can be arranged.”

“And maybe a nap.” Qrow chuckles. “Brothers know that man needs to sleep. The bags under his eyes are big enough to fit a sabyr in them.” 

“You’re not wrong.” Clover laughs. James really did need to rest; he worked himself to the bone way too often. “Alright, so we need to talk with the General soon, but until then, did you want to take a raincheck on that dinner date? I think we both could use some rest as well.”

Qrow smiles and leans back into Clover’s embrace. “Yeah, that sounds good to me. ‘Sides, a night in with just us is  _ way _ better than going out to some stuffy Atlas restaurant.”

“With that, I can agree.” Clover leans in, pressing his lips to Qrow’s for a moment. “But even a stuffy Atlas restaurant is better than _ worms _ , right?” 

“That was  _ one time _ and I was trying to  _ survive _ , thank you!” Qrow exclaims.

Clover just laughs. “How about I make us something warm to eat and we worry about the impending doom after you’re all healed up?”

“Sounds good to me.” Qrow lifts a hand to pull him back down into a deep kiss.

And for just a moment, Clover swears he knows what it feels like to really fly.


End file.
